Images
by Nev827
Summary: How Beckett got the image of a bikini-clad woman on top of Castle out of her mind. One-shot that continues where Cloudy with a Chance of Murder (episode 5.02) ended. Rated M, but only for some nudity.


"Castle? What are you doing?"

The sound of Beckett's voice emanating from her bedroom woke him from his thoughts and dashed the devilish grin from his face. He turned to follow her like a lost puppy dog, stopping in the doorway of her bedroom to lean against the door frame in time to catch her coming out of her master bathroom, a robe now wrapped around her slender frame.

"I wasn't doing anything, just-"

"Thinking. Of her boobs, right?" Beckett interjected.

"No," he began, riffling through his mental file cabinet for ideas on how to placate Kate. "I was thinking of how I can make up to you this latest error in judgment, for which I take complete responsibility and for which I apologize to you again for my glaring insensitivity." Groveling didn't come easy to him, but for her, he would gladly fall on his sword when he was wrong. When she didn't respond, shooting him one of her patented 'Seriously,Castle?' glares, and merely sat on the edge of her bed, twisting the belt of her robe around her elegant, slender fingers, he moved into the room and knelt in front of her.

"Hey," he reached out to touch her arm. "I am sorry. It was wrong and very insensitive of me, but at the same time, if something bothers you, I want you to tell me up front. Don't wait for something to happen."

While Castle could be a frustrating, egotistical, immature man, Beckett couldn't get around how his adorable, sad, sincere face melted her heart. One glimpse of it, and she just didn't have the will to stay mad at him. "I know. Like I said, I'm learning how to do this too. And I'm sorry for not being entirely trustworthy. I promise to do better."

"That's all either of us can ask." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "Well, now that we've resolved that, are you ok? What's with the robe? Not feeling sick are you?" He'd put together the fact that she had donned the fuzzy garment not long after admitting that she couldn't get out of her head the image of the aggressive entertainment reporter throwing her bikini-clad body at Castle the night before and wanted to be sure she wasn't closing herself off.

"A girl can't just get a chill, Castle?" She answered, the corner of her mouth ticking upward in a grin.

"No, of course! It's fine...as long as that's all it is. Not a cold or anything." he spluttered, relieved. Warmth spread through him and what kind of man would he be if he didn't offer to share, especially since she just admitted she was feeling chilly. "Um, I know you said it was too soon, but, I could warm you up, if you like," he offered, his voice taking on a slight husk. He dropped forward onto his knees and ran his hands slowly over her thighs.

Beckett thought for a minute then an idea struck her, wicked, as so many of her ideas lately had become. "I think I have a better idea," she said quietly and stood up, never breaking eye contact with the famous writer. In a flash, she untied the belt of her robe and yanked it open, unknowingly imitating the slutty entertainment reporter, to reveal a black silk brassiere and matching panties. Her inner self cheered when Castle's jaw dropped and his eyes glazed over then darkened instantly. "There we go." She said satisfactorily, putting her hands on her hips.

Wow, Castle thought. Once his mind unfuzzed, he realized she had changed out of the simple nightshirt she had been wearing when he arrived and donned this much more alluring attire. He stood up and slowly slipped the robe off Beckett's shoulders. The sight of her beautiful skin barely covered in lace and satin always got his heart skipping beats. "What do you mean 'there we go'?

"That previous image that was stuck in my head? It's gone now, replaced by the memory of that look on your face." She tweaked his nose with her index finger then traced a line around to the back of his neck where she curled her fingers into his hair.

"Ah, but now I have one stuck in my head." He leaned in to her, so his breath skated over her neck. She helped him shrug out of his jacket, neither caring that the expensive black leather fell in a heap to the floor. He pushed her backwards to tumble onto her bed, wrapped in each others embrace and mouths inches away from meeting.

"I have an idea for how to fix that problem too."

"My, you're being very helpful tonight."

"I do what I can." She said, giggling.

"You do well. But, who says I want my problem fixed? I'll take this kind of problem anytime."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is."

"You know, there's something else you can take anytime," she purred and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"What's that?"

She sealed her mouth to his for an endless kiss. Somehow his shirt vanished, cast to the floor to join his jacket and her robe. Levering her left leg up, she rolled him onto his back and sat up to straddle him. She seductively undid the clasp on her brassiere and tossed it aside. She leaned down and covered his eager body with hers.

"Me."

They kissed again, deeply and passionately, and made love all through the night.


End file.
